


Not Absolution

by tei



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Hatesex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 20:37:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tei/pseuds/tei
Summary: “You’re a filthy whore, and you keep coming back to me because I’m the only one who truly knows how worthless you are.”Ten years later, Mark and Eduardo are still doing this. Somehow.





	Not Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> Written more or less as an expression of my TSN feelings having hatesex with [this article.](https://motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/qvx597/mark-zuckerberg-fanfiction-has-not-aged-well)

“I can’t believe I’m still letting you do this,” muttered Mark. 

His back was up against the grimy wallpaper of a cheap hotel room— not, of course, the hotel that he was actually staying in that week. His hands were pinned to the wall beside him, his head tipped slightly back and his knees weak, most of the weight of his body supported on the thigh thrust roughly between them. Oh, and he was hard as a rock. 

Eduardo Saverin removed his mouth from where it had been trailing down Mark’s jawline and neck. He raised an eyebrow primly, looking for all the world like he was sitting at a boardroom table. Unfazed. “Letting me do this, huh?”

Mark grimaced, avoiding Eduardo’s gaze. “Doing this with you.”

Eduardo was unmollified, and began to loosen his grip on Mark’s wrists and pull his thigh away from Mark’s crotch. Mark grunted, trying to pull Eduardo back into place. “ _Fine_ ,” he said sullenly, “begging you for this.”

“That’s better,” purred Eduardo, his voice low and deadly. He gave Mark a shove back into place against the wall. “You’re a filthy whore, and you keep coming back to me because I’m the only one who truly knows how worthless you are.” 

A wave of calm that he hadn’t felt since— well, since his last time with Eduardo, several months ago— washed over Mark. He pliantly lifted his arms so that Eduardo could remove his shirt for him. 

Eduardo laved his tongue over Marks’ nipples, and Mark gasped and tried to rub his crotch against Eduardo’s leg. 

“Ah-ahh,” said Eduardo, abruptly pulling his leg away and quickly shucking his clothes as Mark looked on, panting. “That’s enough for you for now.” Eduardo stood there buck naked, not seeming uncomfortable at all even though Mark was still wearing the designer jeans that he had been attending meetings in. Somehow Eduardo still managed to look more put-together naked then Mark managed gussied up for national television.

Eduardo raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Mark dropped to his knees and hung there, waiting. Eduardo’s cock bobbed in front of his face and he licked his lips quickly, nervously. 

Eduardo lifted his head, staring literally down his nose at Mark. “You may begin.”

Mark leaned forward and grabbed the base of Eduardo’s cock. He licked a long stripe up the underside, then swallowed him entirely. He could feel Eduardo’s reaction, feel him stiffening under his hands and see the tremors in his legs as the sensation hit him and standing became a struggle. It sent a shiver of pleasure and power through him. If he could do nothing else to get the upper hand over Eduardo— at least he still had this. 

He took the opportunity to pull back, gently kissing the tip. He eyed Eduardo’s cock, as if assessing it for the perfect next spot to put his mouth, and relished Eduardo’s grunt of frustration. He started trying to press his lips gently to every inch of soft skin, from base to tip, letting his tongue flick out every so often for a tantalizing lick. 

“ _Mark_ ,” Eduardo growled in warning. 

Mark abandoned that endeavour and instead simply placed his lips gently around the tip of Eduardo’s cock. He kept his mouth absolutely still, only his fingertips drawing whorls on the back of Eduardo’s thighs. 

Eduardo cracked. He grabbed the back of Mark’s head, holding onto a fistful of hair, and started pumping his hips, sending his length down Mark’s throat. Mark just took it, gagging when he needed to, smiling inside even as his mouth was otherwise occupied. Even if Eduardo was the one shoving himself into Mark’s face— well, Mark had made him want that. Mark had made him lose control for once in his fucking life. 

Eduardo didn’t warn him when he was about to come but he did pull out of Mark’s mouth, coming deliberately across Mark’s chest. He collapsed almost immediately, sliding down to sit with his back leaning against the bed. Mark, semen gleaming on his chest and his hard length painful with arousal, bent sideways to lay his head on Eduardo’s lap to wait.

Somehow, over the —god, more than a decade— that they had been doing whatever the fuck this was, this had become their ritual. Eduardo had discovered that Mark wouldn’t come until he was given permission. Mark had discovered that permission was always granted— eventually. In between the time that Eduardo came and the time that Mark did, though, was a fugue state of want and need and vulnerability that each time, Mark swore he would never gift to Eduardo Saverin again. 

In the occasional moment when his protective coating of self-delusion was weakened, Mark was sometimes able to recognize that that might be the entire reason he needs Eduardo, needs what Eduardo can do to him, so desperately. 

“How long are you in town this time?” Eduardo asked. Small talk. Mark was always in Singapore for “meetings.” Eduardo never asked what the meetings were, exactly. Mark would have an answer— he could plausibly have a meeting in every single country on Earth, if he wanted. It just so happened that he came to Singapore, maybe, more often than strictly necessary.

“Just until tomorrow,” Mark said. “I have to go back home and keep…” he shook his head. “I don’t know. Explaining how it all went wrong.”

Eduardo let out a little bark of laughter. “I wouldn’t recommend using those exact words.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“Besides, nothing went wrong. We built the thing to take over the fucking world, or at least the world as we knew it. Turns out the world was bigger than we thought. But it was a smashing success, otherwise.”

Mark was so conditioned to be the CEO, to say something blandly defensive, that his mouth actually started opening to respond. Then he stopped. He didn’t need to defend himself to Eduardo. There was nothing left to defend. He sank back into the curious mixture of utter relaxation and bone-shaking agitation that this— _thing_ with Eduardo— inspired in him. 

“Must be exhausting to go out every day and have to pretend not to be an utter piece of shit,” said Eduardo, with an edge of genuine malice in his voice. Mark’s throat closed slightly as if with a sob, and he got harder. Eduardo noticed. He leaned over and gave Mark one stroke with his hand, barely any contact, worse than if he’d done nothing at all. 

“I guess,” said Mark. It wasn’t like Eduardo didn’t already know. And God, he wanted to come. if revealing his self-loathing would convince Eduardo to let him come— and it often did— then it would be worth it. 

Bingo. Mark felt the muscle of Eduardo’s thighs tense underneath his head, and then Eduardo pushed himself to his knees and gently laid Mark’s head on the ground. He pushed Mark’s knees apart so his legs were splayed as wide as his terrible tech-wonk stiffness would allow, and settled himself in the space in between. “Say it,” Eduardo instructed. 

Mark nearly tripped over the words in his haste to get them out. “I’m an utter piece of shit,” he said, and then “ _ngggghhh_ as Eduardo lowered his mouth onto his cock. 

Eduardo gave head like he did everything else: efficiently, thoroughly, leaving no avenue unexplored in his brisk march towards Mark’s orgasm. He batted Mark’s hands away when Mark tried to tangle them in Eduardo’s hair, making it clear that even this pleasure was part of Mark’s punishment, and being reduced to a quivering puddle under Eduardo’s talented lips and tongue was just another expression of his all-around worthlessness. 

Mark moaned. _God,_ did that ever work for him. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the grimy carpet and he watched Eduardo’s head bobbing up and down obscenely. “”Wardo,” he choked out, “I’m getting close—“ 

Eduardo growled and redoubled his efforts, sucking Mark so deep he could feel the head of his cock against his throat. Mark grunted and came, feeling a fresh wave of shame as Eduardo grimaced as he swallowed. _I wouldn’t have asked you to do that,_ he wanted to protest, but that would be dangerously close to admitting he actually cared about Eduardo. About this. 

Mark lay back on the dirty carpet of the rented-by-the-hour hotel room in a suburb in Singapore, panting, and wished for all the world that Eduardo Saverin didn’t know how utterly fucked Mark was, and had always been, when it came to him. 

He wished he could walk away and say that this would be the last time— but who was he kidding? He would always come back to Eduardo. He would always need him for this. Every so often it occurred to him to wonder why Eduardo kept coming back, but his mind seemed to want to slip around the edges of the question, as if repelled magnetically away from any analysis of Eduardo’s desires or intentions. 

Eduardo was already in the shower as Mark recovered, emerging from the bathroom dressed and every inch the businessman just as Mark was getting to the stage of wiping Eduardo’s semen off him with a wad of tissue. “Room’s paid for under the name ‘Erica Winklevoss,’” he said brusquely, ignoring Mark’s sputter of incredulous laughter. “Leave by the kitchen door. The help here are very discreet.”  
He gathered his bag and left, clicking the door shut behind him. Mark didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t need to. 

They would see each other again soon.


End file.
